


Replacements

by mrsvc



Category: My Babysitter's A Vampire
Genre: F/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-31 00:17:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsvc/pseuds/mrsvc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny and Sarah both want someone else, so they fill the time with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replacements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Menacherie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menacherie/gifts).



> Unbeta'd.

Sarah slammed the door shut behind her. "Dork," she said, her own version of hello.

"Heinous witch," Benny replied, looking up from his magic book with a shit-eating grin on his face. "That's a lovely sunburn on your face. Forget your sunblock this morning?"

"Ugh," she sighed, pushing him back into his chair and straddling his lap, hands already tugging roughly at his long hair. "You are such a brat."

He grabbed her hips, let her kiss him fiercely, didn't do more than smirk. He knew she was always careful not to bite him, to hold her fangs back and just scrap her human teeth over his lips until they were raw and red and so tempting for her vampire nature. His favorite part of their encounters was whenever he could make her eyes turn yellow just from the way he touched her.

"You can't call me a witch," she ran her hands down his chest, cold fingers creeping just under his shirt. "I believe that's you."

"Spell master," he emphasized, his own fingers busy with her jacket. 

"I thought you were a Jedi master," she joked, raising her hips up just enough to be a tease. 

"So you /do/ listen." 

"Shut up," she hissed, dragging him up from the chair by his hoodie. "You are such a loser." 

"At least I try, babe. Oof," he sighed as she pushed him back on his bed. His hoodie was lost somewhere behind him in the blink of an eye and he found his hands held over his head.

"Don't call me that," she said, punctuating the words with hard kisses to his throat. Benny liked to think she liked the temptation, got off on bringing herself so close to his heart and the smell of his blood, and resisting. 

"Always knew you were a dominatrix." 

"What do you even know about that?" she growled, his shirt unbuttoned too quickly for him to follow the movement. "Besides, doesn't that make you my bitch?" 

He shuddered when she swore, the edge of the word lost when she mouthed down his chest. That's the part they don't talk about, the way Benny just surrenders to her even as his mouth spouts abuse and witty rejoiners. They don't talk about it, at all, because it's born of something neither of them can put into words; a longing neither of them can deal with because it's for their best friends.

Benny can't figure out what's stopping Sarah, though. He'd watched them, best friends again, now that they were both undead beings, and he knew. He knew it would work out, if she would just take the chance, and he wondered if maybe that was the problem. That she was afraid of the risk, that this new confident Erica would shun her for asking, for feeling the way she did. 

He also wondered if she could see it all in his eyes, too. The same unspoken things when he watched Ethan smile shyly at her from across a classroom, his nervous little laugh whenever she spoke to him. He thinks maybe she can, from the pitying look she shoots him whenever Ethan tries to ask her out. He was pretty sure it was that pitying look was what brought them to where they were right now: hashing out their repressed needs for their friends on each other, with her hands in his pants and throat bared carelessly to her teeth. 

"You just-" he gasped. "Take your time."

"I'm going to shut that mouth of yours real fast, Weir." 

He chuckled, raw and strained in the back of his throat, "you know I love it when you call me Big Poppa." 

They avoided using each other's first names. They both knew it was because the wrong ones would be said too often to ignore completely. And that's what this was supposed to be: ignoring it. 

"Not going to happen." She wrenched her wrist and Benny stilled against her, his fingers tight on her thin stomach, and she grinned. "My turn." 

"So...bossy," he panted, when he could catch his breath properly. 

They could have been friends, in another life; one that didn't involve undead creatures of the night and high school politics. If they'd met as adults, they probably would have been great friends. They understand each other in a way that they fear no one else does. They understand each other's dark sides, play off of them in the best way they can come up with. 

She fell back, let Benny take control, and he knew that it was a gift because he'd seen her rip fences apart and hold her own against fully reborn vampires. He left kisses down her sides, a particularly spectacular hickey on the inside of her thigh, and didn't mind that it felt like she was going to rip his hair out of his head. 

He would never dare to pity Sarah for what Jesse had done to her. He valued his life too much for that. However, when they were like this, with her whimpering softly above him, he couldn't help but think about what it must have felt like for her to lose everything when she was just seventeen. He was younger, he knew that, but still. He wouldn't want to lose his chance to grow up right now for anything. 

It hadn't taken them long to work out the way this went down. Benny was always first because Sarah liked to take control, she liked to dictate how everything went, and then she would give it up, just for a few minutes. She couldn't let her guard down in front of anyone anymore because she wasn't just a normal girl, no matter how much she wanted to be. When they were like this, though, locked in Benny's room, she could be anything she wanted. 

She moved against him, fast and desperate, and Benny had learned to keep up with everything she wanted, didn't have anything pithy or sarcastic to say. He let her set the momentum, loved the way she breathed sharply just before, and let her ride it out without so much as a chuckle. 

Afterward, after clothes has been found and put back on with care to not give anything away to their friends or Benny's grandmother, they laid back on his bed, side by side, and stared at the ceiling. "Are we...wrong?" she asked. 

He took one of his hands from back behind his head and took her hand for a second, just a brief squeeze, like he wasn't allowed anything more, even after what they had done, and said, "if we're wrong, who wants to be right?" 

She laughed, a little hysterically, and covered her face with her hands. "You are such a dweeb." 

"Yeah," he agreed, slipping an arm around her shoulders and letting her laugh against his chest. "But at least I was never a Dusker."


End file.
